Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sierra Leone and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Tom Boy. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MC5 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Star Department,
Gang of Four,
Nick Fraelich,
Stockholm Monsters,
KRS-One,
Jacob Miller,
Steve Hackett,
Shoche,
F. McDonald,
Sister Nancy,
Ohio Players,
The Gladiators,
Country Teasers,
X-101,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marc Almond,
Amazonics,
Pagans,
Ice-T,
John Lydon,
Brothers Johnson,
Kayak,
The Seeds,
Hardrive,
Chrome,
Ash Ra Tempel,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grauzone,
Man Parrish,
Gabor Szabo,
Dead Boys,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Model 500,
Suburban Knight,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Victims,
The Blackbyrds,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Silicon Teens,
Circle Jerks,
Al Stewart,
Lower 48,
The Dave Clark Five,
Andrew Hill,
Bob Dylan,
Minny Pops,
The Invisible,
Warsaw,
JFA,
Bill Wells,
The Music Machine,
Aaron Thompson,
Rhythm & Sound,
Q65,
Dave Gahan,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pulsallama,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sun City Girls,
Faraquet,
Little Man,
Big Daddy Kane,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.